


two-faced

by aunormahals



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: AU? I guess??, Forsaken, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22600543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunormahals/pseuds/aunormahals
Summary: There's a lot on Aunor's plate right now: Gambit and the new Dredgens, the loss of the Hunter Vanguard, the infestation in the Dreaming City... When a string of never-before-seen Hive runes appear in the EDZ, she decides to call in a friend to help decipher them. And they're trustworthy. Right?
Relationships: Aunor/OC (if you squint)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	two-faced

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to @dredgen worm on discord.  
> if i can figure out a good enough story to continue this it may be updated, but for now i'd just take this as a one-shot

_“I will do anything to protect the city I care about.” --Warlock Cassiopeia_

* * *

Warlock Aunor Mahal stared at the files skewed on her desk, her chin resting on her intertwined fingers. Her deep brown eyes glanced between a photograph on the left and a chart on the right. The only sound in the room, and truly the only other movement in the room, was the fan clicking overhead as it spun. Every now and again the breeze from above would knock one of the photographs out of alignment, or would attempt to send the chart tumbling to the floor, and Aunor would quickly grasp it, return it to its position, and then resume staring with her chin on her hands.

Eventually Aunor sighed and leaned back in her chair. Her head pulsed slightly. This type of work was not what she was accustomed to. Spending hours staring at papers and photographs, yes. Decoding Hive runes found in the EDZ, not so much.

Aunor began to clean up their desk, to put the files in their respective folder, when a knock sounded on the door. “Come in.”

The door opened to reveal an Awoken Warlock dressed in robes of diamond-patterned teal. They clutched a tablet to their chest. “Aunor, I presume?”

“Yes, I am. Come on in.” She gestured for them to enter with a wave of her hand. “You are Warlock Cassiopeia, correct?”

“Yes, but please, call me Cass,” they said with a smile. “It’s nice to see you in person.”

“Likewise, Cass. I have another task for you,” Aunor said and held up the file. “If you’re up for it.”

“I’m always up for working with you.” They took the file from her and sat down in a nearby chair. “But I do hope this task doesn’t involve more spying.”

“None at all. This task requires a bit more… linguistic skills.”

Cass glanced up at Aunor, visibly confused, and opened the file. After a moment they spoke up: “Are these...Hive runes?”

“We believe so, yes.”

“These are nothing like I’ve encountered before.” Cass flipped through the photographs, inspecting each one carefully. They outlined a rune with a gloved finger. “Where were these found?”

“EDZ. Right around the entrance into the Forest.” Aunor was silent while they let Cass finish going through the file. “If I recall correctly, you have some experience with the Hive runic language.”

“I do. I spent many months looking for traces of their written language on the Dreadnaught, trying to decipher them.” Cass closed the file with a soft sigh. “Guardians were discovering small runes everywhere, rushing to find out which chest they fit into with no care about what they could possibly unleash.”

“I remember reading reports about those runes as well. I remember realizing how narrow-minded Guardians are at times.” Aunor shook her head in disbelief; at least nothing bad had come out of those chests. “Back to the task at hand: are you willing to work on it?”

Cass nodded. “I’ll work on it, but I’m not certain I can come up with anything concrete. I’ll need some time to work on it. I’ll also need a work space large enough to hold all these photos. Every rune is expanded upon and isolated in its own photo; I’ll need time to recreate the scene to--”

Cass fell silent as Aunor put up her hand. “I’ve already reserved one of the labs for you. Ghost scans of the site have already been uploaded into the lab’s AI software. All you have to do is boot it up.”  
For a moment Aunor couldn’t read Cass. Their face was void of emotion. The moment passed, and Cass’s face lit up. “You mean I can use one of the Praxic labs?”

Aunor laughed softly and nodded. “Yes, that means you can use a Praxic lab.”

“A lab, huh… In that case, when can I get started?”

Aunor motioned for Cass to follow her in answer. She led them down the hall to the elevators. When they stepped in, she noticed that Cass was in the midst of looking over the file again. “Is there anything that stands out?”

Cass shook their head. “Except that this is crudely done. Hive runes are usually found in their sacred spaces and are exceptionally clean. This is the equivalent of cave paintings.”

Aunor glanced over their shoulder to look at one of the photos. They were right, in a way. If one would compare Hive writings with human art.

The elevator whirred as it descended lower into the Tower. It was the only noise until Cass spoke up. “What do you expect I’ll find?”

“Pardon?”

“What do you think I’ll find? Any ideas? Hopes, even?”

Aunor fell silent. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting. She hoped it would end up being nothing more than her overactive mind jumping to the worst possible conclusion without any evidence whatsoever. If the findings showed nothing, there would still be questions to answer: What are they doing there? Who made them? If they’re nothing of interest or of note, then why did the writer put them there, in a cave near a broken and powerless shard of the Traveler? Could this be just one piece of a much larger puzzle? If there are more pieces then where are they located? How many pieces did they need in order to see the entire picture? What would that picture even contain?

 _Take a step back._ She could almost hear Ikora’s soft voice in her head. _Take a step back, and breathe._ Her thoughts had the troubling notion of causing her to spiral-- one wrong thought would lead to several thoughts would lead to a never ending storm of what if’s. The storm did nothing but cloud her thoughts, her mind. She needed herself to be clear.

“Aunor?”

She looked up and saw that the elevator was open on their destined floor. Cass was staring at her, keeping one arm over the door to stop it from closing. She noticed that Cass’s eyes-- a bright orange, not uncommon for the Awoken-- were reflected brightly despite the dim halls. Even with a shadowed face, she could tell that their expression was one of concern.

She steadied herself with a soft sigh. “I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “I just want to understand.”

“I’ll help you understand,” they said. They reached out to Aunor. “We can unravel these secrets together.”

Aunor stared at the Warlock’s outstretched hand, briefly feeling something akin to Arc energy running down her spine. She took the Warlock’s hand in hers and squeezed it briefly and smiled at them. “Together.” She let go of their hand and stepped out of the elevator. “The lab’s this way.” She led them down a few doors in the hall before stopping before one and opening it with a quick swipe of a keycard.

The room held nothing save for a small projector that hung from the ceiling. Simple yet professional. Cass’s eyes widened as they took it all in, looking as delighted as a child during the Dawning. “So this is where the magic happens,” they whispered in awe.

Aunor closed the door behind her and moved to stand by Cass’s side, her hands clasped behind her back. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“How does this all work?”

Aunor responded with a slight gesture. Instantly, light filled the room, blinding Cass in the process. When their eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, they saw they had been transported into a cave.

They took a step towards the writing on the walls when they realized that they hadn’t been transported. The floor looked covered in dirt and mud, but they heard the linoleum tap beneath their boots. The room had just taken the uploaded data in order to immerse the two Warlocks within a replica. Cass reached out to touch a carving and found that their fingers slid through the image, causing it to ripple. They pulled their hand away and it shuddered again before it settled flatly against itself.

“Wow,” was all Cass could manage.

Aunor couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s rather intense for a first-timer.”

“I’ll say.” She watched as they turned in place, taking in every bit of detail from the holos. Or just incredibly fascinated with the holo-tech. One or the other.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to join the Praxic Order,” Cass said eventually. They had stopped spinning in place and had turned their gaze to Aunor. “They really do have the best technology.”

“So why don’t you?” she asked. “You’d be a wonderful addition to the Order. The work you did during our joint investigation was exemplary. I have fellows within the Order that can’t do half as well as you did.”

Cass shrugged slightly. “I feel as though I can do more by fighting. Truthfully, I rarely find myself in the Last City anymore. I come here for a restock before I return to the Reef.”

Aunor knew immediately what they were referring to. “The Dreaming City.”

They nodded slowly. “The curse has yet to be broken. All attempts have been for nothing; it all… starts over again. It appears that it won’t be broken for quite some time. Guardians come and go as they please, but I find myself unable to leave.” Aunor watched as Cass frowned, as if struggling to piece together words, to convey how they felt. “It… It’s a part of the Awoken heritage. I am Awoken, and yet for the longest time I have always been cast aside by the Reefborn simply because I am a Guardian. Yet despite that, I can’t help but… help them. I can’t leave them to face that alone.” They rubbed their eyes. “Sometimes I imagine the Last City caught in something like that. It just further solidifies my need to fight alongside them.”

Aunor rested her hand on their upper arm and squeezed reassuringly. “The curse will be broken.”

“Maybe. Or maybe enough Guardians will think it’s a lost cause and move on to some other nightmare. Without our support, the City is doomed to be completely Taken, and whoever started the curse will get what they want. And if the being behind the curse is who I think it is, then we can’t let that happen.” Cass shifted their shoulders, looking uncomfortable, and Aunor’s hand slid off their arm. “This whole mess started when my team and I killed Riven. I won’t rest until this curse is broken. It was my fault this started, and I’ll do whatever it takes in order to break it.”

The silence that followed felt heavy in the air. Aunor kept her eyes on Cass, watching as they stared at their hands opening and closing into fists. It felt like minutes later when Cass looked up at her with a half-smile. It didn’t quite reach their eyes. “Sorry, I… that may have been a bit bleak. I’ll get to work on deciphering these runes.”

Aunor’s eyes glanced around Cass’s face for a moment, trying to find some buried emotion. Eventually she nodded. “Very well. I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

Cass waved to Aunor as she left. “Feel free to stop by any time!”

Aunor took one last glance towards the Warlock as they closed the door. They flicked their tablet to life, and their Ghost appeared by their side in a spark of light. As she closed the door, she heard them speak: “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

* * *

A day later, Aunor decided to check up on Cass. She brought lunch for the both of them, along with a thermos of tea, a loaf of strawberry bread and a jar of honey. She opened the door to the lab and peeked in and saw the Warlock floating in place, cross-legged. The tails of their robes swayed back and forth gently. The light reflecting off them made it seem like a waterfall. As she approached, she noticed the progress they had made. There were notes attached to several of the runes, most likely written by the AI software as Cass dicated.

“I see you’ve made progress,” Aunor spoke up.

She watched as Cass’s form falter as their concentration broke. They almost hit their backside against the ground, but they managed to land on their feet. “Aunor! You startled me!”  
“My apologies, I thought you heard me enter.”

“No… no, I didn’t. I’m sorry, I was a bit too focused…” They rubbed their eyes with both hands before slapping their cheeks lightly. “I’ve been working since you left a few hours ago…”

Aunor’s eyebrows creased in confusion. “A few hours ago? Cass, it’s been more than a day since we last spoke.”

Stunned, Cass turned to face Aunor. “Really? Huh. That would explain my exhaustion.” As if to back that claim, Cass let out a single loud and long yawn. “Transcribing Hive runes isn’t as easy as it appears…”

Aunor once again glanced over at the holos of the runes and the notes taken. “I can see that. What can you tell me so far?”

“So far? Nothing.” Cass gestured to their notes. “All I have been able to do is write down possible translations and then arrange and rearrange the translations from most to least likely to be a valid translation.” They sighed in frustration. “The Hive language isn’t like any human language spoken today. One rune holds multiple meanings, and the possible translation depends on the rest of the rest of the runes in the sentence. But those runes depend on the rest for their most accurate translation as well. And to make matters worse, there really isn’t any grammar! Just the words alone make the sentence. The Hive could understand the meaning of a collection of runes that just said ‘force-balance-push’. But it’s nearly impossible to make any sort of translation that makes sense to us, but it makes perfect sense to the Hive. So it’s been, for the most part, a back and forth debate over which translation of the sentence is more likely than the other.”

“I see…” She took a closer look at the notes and noticed that they were, in fact, lists of possible translations. She also noticed that the words weren’t all from one language. “What’s going on here?” She pointed to a note on the third rune. “Is that Portuguese and English? For one rune?”

They nodded. “Some languages have words that don’t exist in other languages. I thought using the more common languages found within the City would allow me a chance to be more thorough.”

“I… I can tell. It’s impressive. Might I suggest taking a break?” She glanced back to the Warlock and held up the bag of food. “I thought we could have some lunch together.”

Cass glanced from Aunor to the bag of food and back to Aunor. Even in the unevenly lit room Aunor noticed that their face seemed to flush. “I’d like that,” they said.

The two made their way to the top of the Tower, to where the Guardians gathered in between their exploits off planet. They found an empty bench above Lord Shaxx’s set up. A rather poor idea, given the Crucible handler’s tendency to shout for any given reason whatsoever, but they found themselves laughing over his outbursts and how, even though there was little to no context, they were able to piece together what happened.  
“Someone must have accidentally nuked themselves with a rocket launcher,” laughed Aunor. “Such a waste of ammo.”

“A Hunter must have gotten caught in their own tether,” chuckled Cass. “I’m sure they enjoyed it for a while.”

The two Warlocks talked as they ate. They spoke of their escapades outside of the Last City, of the places they visited and the battles they’ve partaken in. Aunor learned that Cass had also fought in the Battle of Twilight Gap, and that they had avoided much of the SIVA Crisis by working to clear out the Dreadnaught.

“Is that where you picked up your knowledge of the Hive?” she asked.

Cass nodded and blew on their cup of tea. “I spent most of my time looking for secrets to bring to Eris Morn. It was she who taught me what I know about the Hive.” They paused to take a sip, sputtering slightly as the hot tea burned their lips. “I learned much from her insight, as well as Toland’s journals. Eris gave me a copy,” they added as they saw Aunor’s frown.

Aunor shifted slightly, turning to face Cass more. “Nothing wrong with that, I suppose. She said it helped her during her time on Luna.” She tore off a piece of strawberry bread and drizzled some honey over it before tossing it into her mouth. “I would have done the same had I been in her place. At that point, morals cease to exist; all that matters is survival.”

“I suppose you’re right…”

Their voice was quiet, contemplative even. Aunor, alerted by the sudden shift in tone, looked up towards Cass, her hand frozen inches away from the bread. She found them staring ahead of them, past the vendor and her wares. After a few moments of silence, Aunor spoke up: “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is fine.” Their tone was still distant. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what, exactly?”

Cass chewed on their lower lip before they turned to face her. “What does the Praxic Order do to the Guardians who stray too far?”

Ah, the age-old question. The one that every Guardian, new and old, asks when they learn of her Praxic duties. Aunor broke off another piece of bread and began to add another drop of honey as she spoke. “It depends on just how far they have strayed. The new Dredgens that have popped up, for the most part, are left alone. The ones that are left alone are nothing more than fans of a game and have no interest in gathering infamy outside of Gambit. But there are those that learn about the history of Dredgen Yor and his Shadows, and seek to pursue that sort of philosophy and craft their own Weapon of Sorrow. For those ones, we return them to the City and try to make them see the error of their ways. If we succeed, then good; they return to their old ways. If they’re more stubborn, then we exile them.” Aunor chewed on the sweet bread and started licking the honey off her fingers. “We can’t allow them to remain in the City if they choose to follow a… darker path. Their actions have the potential to hurt the innocent civilians, both here in the Tower and out there in the city. Let the Man with the Golden Gun have them.”

Cass nodded slowly, taking in everything she was saying. “That’s what I suspected. But… there is another question that’s bothering me. The Dredgens that you find that don’t want to return to the city… How do you get them to return?”

“We restrain their Ghosts,” was Aunor’s answer.

Cass shook their head, clearly unsatisfied with that answer. “Dredgens that are too far won’t care for their Ghosts. I’ve interacted with some of them-- they call their Ghost a ‘chattering Oversoul’. A Dredgen with no Ghost is free. So: how do you get them to return?”

Aunor sighed. “They have to die in order to draw the Ghost out.”

Cass’s eyes widened. “You kill them?”

“It’s a death they have experienced before; it means nothing to them.”

“That’s not the point, Aunor! You kill them and then trap them in death by restraining their Ghost!” Their voice had risen to the point that the rest of the area had fallen to a hushed silence. They noticed the vendors staring at them and they lowered their voice. “What about the Ghost you sent me?” they whispered. “The one in a million pieces.”

“I told you what happened with that one,” she said, struggling to keep her voice low. “He died in a shootout against the Praxic Order.”

“And what about reeducation there, huh? Where was the exile you mentioned? Why did the two of them have to die?”

“The Order had been following those two around for months, keeping track of where they were going, who they were meeting with, what they were doing. We suspected that we were going to be unable to reason with them. When they threatened us and fired upon us without hesitation, without remorse, we knew then that there was no way for them to come back from this. And make no mistake, Cass,” their name came out like a hiss, “that outcome had been discussed at length. We don’t actively seek out the death of Dredgens. We want to help them, help them help humanity, but we are all well aware that nothing gold can stay. If left to their own devices, they could ruin us all.”

Both Warlocks glared at each other, their jaws clenched, their eyes narrowed. It felt like hours before Cass spoke up. “What if it were me?”

That question alone broke Aunor’s sternness. “What?”

“What if I was someone you had to hunt down? You seem… keen on me, if I’m not mistaken. What if I was a Dredgen?”

Aunor felt a nervous bubble of laughter rise inside her and pushed it down. “That’s impossible. You wouldn’t be a Dredgen.”

“Fine, then. Not a Dredgen. But what if I sought my own way to protect humanity? One that didn’t involve the Light, or the Traveler, or you? What if I thought I could tame the Darkness and use it as a source of power the same way I use the Light?”

That cause Aunor to laugh aloud. “You? Using the Darkness? Don’t be ridiculous; you have the strongest Light I’ve ever seen.”

“Strength of Light has nothing to do with it,” Cass said somberly. “And be honest, please.”

“Fine. I’ll be honest with you: if you were convicted of dabbling with the Darkness, chances are you’d be exiled. You seem like the type of person who is sure what they’re doing is right, and you won’t listen to reason. But, if we see that, despite playing with Darkness, you haven’t harmed anyone, we wouldn’t consider any sort of ‘execution’. We would simply find that you’d become a hazard to those around, and we can’t allow a hazard within the city.”

“So I would have exile to look forward to.”

“In this situation? Yes.”

“Right… right.”

“This is all hypothetical.”

“Of course.”

Cass and Aunor finished the tea in silence. Once they finished, Cass thanked her for the food and for spending time with them before returning to the lab. They promised they’d have the translations completed before the end of the week.

Aunor packed up, alone, wondering why she let herself speak sometimes.

* * *

The two Warlocks didn’t speak again to one another until several days later, when Cass called up Aunor to inform her that the translations were finished. Aunor had wanted to call them, but when she thought about what she would say, she would remember their argument, and then remember the several counter arguments she had prepared to any possible argument Cass would throw at her, before deciding to leave them be and not call.

Cass would be arriving at her office any moment now. They were cleaning up the lab before giving her a debrief of what they learned. Aunor couldn’t focus on the paperwork in front of her. A nervous energy had settled in her. She bounced her leg to try to rid herself of it. She couldn’t figure out if the energy was coming from the anticipation of the results or the idea of seeing Cass for the first time since their debate. It was the findings, she convinced herself. It had to be the results. This was going to be the start of figuring out that puzzle, of having scouts scour possible locations on Earth and beyond in order to find more of these caves, to have Cass-- if they were willing-- decipher the runes as they did.

There was a knock on the door. Cass entered, their tablet in hand. As they sat down, Aunor noticed the dark circles forming beneath their eyes.

“You look like you’ve seen better days.”

Cass let out a snort. “I once again pulled several all-nighters without realizing it. Doesn’t matter, really. It’s done.”

Aunor nodded and lowered herself in the chair behind her desk. “So… what did you find?”

For a moment, Cass didn’t say anything. Their bright eyes scanned her face before they closed.

They let out a breath. “It’s nothing,” they said.

All the tension that Aunor had been unconsciously holding suddenly vanished. It… was nothing? That couldn’t be… She rested her arms on her desk and leaned forward. “Excuse me? It’s nothing?”

“Well, no, it’s not nothing. It’s definitely something, but it’s nothing to worry about.” Cass rubbed their eyes with their thumb and forefinger before flicking at the tablet. They set it down in front of her. The document on the screen held several lines. Aunor instantly recognized that it was another list, similar to Cass’s possible rune translations. But these were longer than just a few words. She read through them all, her confusion increasing with every line passed.

“What is this?” she eventually asked. “What are these?”

“They’re… song lyrics.”

“...Song lyrics.”

“Yes.”

Aunor looked up at Cass. “As in a Deathsinger’s song? These, ah, lyrics don’t seem to fit a Deathsinger.”

They shook their head. “No, no. Not a Deathsinger. There haven’t been reports of Deathsingers since the fall of the Taken King. These lyrics are actually from a human song.”

“A… human song.”

“Yes. One that’s rather known to the Guardian population. Here.” Cass quickly swiped down a secondary menu and pressed the play button. The sound of heavy drums and guitar riffs filled the office, and soon the sound of screeching vocals followed. After a few lines had been sung, Cass paused the track and glanced at Aunor, lifting an eyebrow. “Quite a song, huh?”

Aunor blinked, her mind reeling. “Is that really what fellow Guardians listen to these days?”

Cass grinned. “One would say it’s an acquired taste.”

“It is, very much so. So,” Aunor started after Cass had lowered back into their seat, “this is… just a song?”

They nodded again. “In my opinion, this is the equivalent of a translation exercise that kids in the City have for homework. You know, ‘Translate this sentence from English to Portuguese.’ Except, in this case, it’s from a human language into Hive runic.” They fell silent, letting Aunor scroll through the notes.

When she finished, she looked up at them. “So, you’re confident that there’s nothing to worry about here?”

“I’m confident that this is nothing to worry about. This is, most likely, the work of some bored Guardian who might be too interested in the Hive. Perhaps it was during the Red War and some Lightless Guardian was trying to find a way to kill time until the Light came back.”

That may have been the case, but it still felt like something was missing. Aunor bit her lower lip, ruminating on possible scenarios, before nodding and clicking the tablet screen off. “You’re right. This is nothing but a bad learning experience.” She pushed the tablet across the table towards the other Warlock. “Thank you, Cass. You’ve helped set my mind at ease.”

“Anytime, Aunor,” they said with a smile. “Working with you seems to have its perks.”

She felt her face flare up. She scratched at her cheek until she felt the heat fade from her cheeks. “How about I take you out for dinner? As payment.”

She saw them flush and try to bite back a smile before it took over their face. “I’d like that,” they said, “but I can’t. At least, not tonight. Petra has called for aid; the Gateway in the Dreaming City has opened again.”  
“I see…” Aunor felt her heart sink into her chest. “Duty calls.”

“It does, unfortunately.”

“You will be careful, right?”

Cass smirked. “I always am.”

“Then I’ll see you when you return. Be brave, Guardian.”

* * *

In the underbelly of the Dreaming City lay a gateway into a world of unreality. This gateway was only opened for a short time, after an immense amount of Light forced the gateway to open. It was just beyond this gateway where the heart of the curse resided. Again and again, Guardians would venture into the gateway and rip out the heart of the curse. Again and again, the heart would regrow itself. Again and again.  
Again and again.

Cass had lost track of the amount of times they had entered the Throne World. Was this try fourteen? Fifteen? It didn’t matter. It was a temporary solution to a persistent problem.

The journey to the gateway was always the same. Step through a transport portal into the Confluence, watch the shadows walk alongside their bearer, take a moment to appreciate the large crystalized map, or the large tree, or the statue of an unidentified Queen. Take a moment to remember why you’re doing what you’re about to do before walking into a world that screams.

Cass quickly bounded down the stairs leading towards the gateway. They looked around the Confluence, squinting slightly. The gateway was a sight to behold: the gateway itself was bright with Light, yet the portal into the unreality was dark, full of shadows. The Light and Dark of the area contrasted greatly, with shadows being thrown all over the walls, only broken up by the steady stream of Light pouring down from the Well above.  
They walked past the Well’s lower mechanisms, brushing their hand over it slightly as moved. They wondered what they as Guardians would do if the Well somehow broke down. It was unlikely that it ever would-- something made real by Ahamkara magic wasn’t going to break down so easily.

It was more likely that Guardians would quit powering the Well, and thus not allowing the gateway to open. If that happened, then it would all be over. The curse would consume the Dreaming City. The Well had to be continuously powered. Guardians had to continuously power it.

Guardians made their own fate. Whoever designed this curse made sure that by abandoning their fate, Guardians would doom an entire city.

Two Guardians stood by the gateway. One was a Titan, wearing bulky Crucible armor. He sat on one of the large and twisting roots that rested from just outside the gateway and reached deep within it. He fiddled with the weapon in his hand, checking and rechecking the sights and the magazine. The other was a Hunter, who stood still, her arms crossed against her chest. Along her arms were bones-- Ahamkara bones-- plated in heavy metal.

She nodded as the Warlock approached. “Cass,” she greeted, her voice fuzzy thanks to her voice modulator.

Cass nodded in return. “Zoey.”

Zoey nodded again, this time in the direction of the gateway. “Shall we?”

“Is there anything we should know before entering?”

This time, Techeun Sedia spoke up from her place at the foot of the steps. “Everything that has happened before is expected to happen again. But take caution, Guardians. Where you go is not a place where you can be so easily remade.”

“‘S the same thing you said last time,” the Titan said, grunting slightly.

The Hunter and Warlock glanced at the Titan. The Hunter tsk’ed while the Warlock merely shook their head.

The fireteam stepped through the portal and felt reality ripple around them. Soon the fabric of the unreality found them tangled within the threads and they were able to venture onward.

No matter the amount of times Cass entered the Ascendant realm, it always caused issues for them. The unreality was built on swords and screams and they dug into their essence, threatening to erode them. They spoke of this feeling with other Awoken Guardians and found that it was a normal happening. While they were protected by the Light, the Deep still recognized the Awoken as one of its own, and therefore the Ascendant realm had more of a negative effect on them.

The Hunter must have noticed the discomfort her Awoken comrade was in. Her pace slowed down enough to match them. “Are you alright?”

Cass looked over at the Hunter and noticed that the green lights of her eyes were just barely seen glinting through her helmet. “I’ll be fine. It just takes some time getting used to it.”

“I’ll say,” they heard the Titan grumble from behind.

Cass looked back at the Titan and noticed he was slouched as he walked. “Is… he real?”

“No,” the Hunter answered.

“You can get rid of him, if you’d like. We’re far enough inside; the tech-witch won’t notice.”

The Titan, as if he was a puppet whose strings had been cut, stumbled forward, tripping on his feet, before finally hitting the ground and exploding in a puff of black dust. The Hunter let out a sigh of relief and she rolled her shoulders, more relaxed. The metal on her arms glistened terribly, hauntingly, in the little light of the Ascendant realm.

“Better?” they asked.

“Much, yes.” Her voice sounded like a hiss.

The two continued on in silence. Eventually the dead roots, the ones that stretched from reality into unreality, ended, just as the architecture of the space made itself known. The Awoken aesthetic revealed itself, in the form of a broken and crumbling bridge. Far ahead of them was a massive door, sealed shut.

It was at the first ledge where Cass stopped, their toes of their boots mere inches away. “There is it,” they whispered. Again and again, the beauty of the place astounded them.

The Hunter stood next to them, gazing around the area. She huffed; she didn’t care too much for the place. Just what it held. “Can I unmask yet?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

That was the response she needed. She raised her hands in front of her face and her helmet disappeared, her face no longer recognizable as Exo. It was shifting, in size and shape, from metal to chitin. She pushed the hood off her head and smoothed it on her shoulders as horns began to grow from metal nubs on her forehead, growing alongside her skull before turning upwards near the end. The Hunter’s cloth cloak turned into a raiment of silk that cascaded like dark water down her back. The bones vanished from her arms and reappeared around her chest, weaving around her growing frame like a corset. Her hands fell to her side; where there were once five fingers on each hand were now three long claws. She no longer had legs-- instead, she floated off the ground, with silken robes that hung from just beneath the edge of her bone armor that gently swayed despite there being no breeze.

Where the Hunter stood now floated the emaciated magnificence of the witch Ir Zythàs, the Keeper of Bones, the Consumed.

She let out a sigh of relief, a sound that send shivers up the Warlock’s spine. “I cannot bear,” she said, her voice as puncturing as knives, her three eyes glowing bright, “to take your little Lightbearer forms for so long. How you do anything, restricted as you are, is beyond my comprehension.”

Cass let their eyes run up and down the witch’s form. “How you hold anything with three claws is beyond my comprehension.”

Ir Zythàs let out a laugh. The Warlock flinched away, wincing at the harshness of the sound. “My dear Lightbearer, I so missed you during your excursion into your city.”

“I’m sure you did. Before we head further, we need to talk about that.”

Ir Zythàs turned to face them. “About what?”

Cass swallowed nervously. “You know what I did, correct?”

The witch nodded. “I do. You protected me from your kind.”

“So you know I had to lie to them to protect you.”

“Did you now?” She sounded surprised. Whether or not it was genuine surprise was unknown to Cass. “What did you tell them?”

“I told them they had nothing to worry about.”

“You deciphered my runes, yes? And what did you find?”

“...Human lyrics.”

The witch clacked her tongue. “That isn’t a lie.”

“I lied about its origins. And that they had nothing to worry about.”

“They no longer have anything to worry about, thanks to you.”

“That’s not entirely true, Zythàs, and you know it.”

The witch’s eyes narrowed. “Speak your mind.”

Cass took a deep, steadying breath. “You can trust me. You know you can trust me; I betrayed my people to make sure they would not discover you. But I can’t say the same about you. The most that I can say is that you have yet to kill me and eat my Light. Hell, I can’t even say that! You did kill me when we first encountered each other! You snapped my neck and let the voices attached to your armor torment me!” They paused to catch their breath and gather their thoughts. “Do you know what I’m risking? By allying myself to you? I’m risking exile! I’m risking my life, and the life of my Ghost!”

“You resent me,” the witch mused. “You are safer without me, safer killing me and being done with me, and yet you continue to fight alongside me. Why is that?”

“You know why,” the Warlock growled. “To break the curse on the Dreaming City. To deny the Witch-Queen the power she seeks. To end Her once and for all. I’ll do anything to protect the city I care about.”

“To do that, you must trust me. And you can, Cassiopeia,” spoke Ir Zythàs. She pressed a claw against her chest. “You have saved me and spared me multiple times. You are worthy of my trust.”

“Then prove it,” Cass challenged. “Prove to me that I should trust you.”

Ir Zythàs didn’t move; her eyes, still narrowed, didn’t linger from Cass’s, hidden beneath the helmet. She then moved, slowly, reaching for Cass’s hands. She gently removed the gloves from their hands and pressed them together. She then reached around their waist and pulled out a small knife from their belt.

One hand held the knife, the other was now outstretched, palm facing upwards, over the Warlock’s cupped palms. The two looked at each other, their eyes connected. The connection never broke as Ir Zythàs lifted the knife over her head and drove it deep into her palm. A squelching sound was heard as she wiggled the knife free and allowed the green-black blood of the Hive to pour through her claws and into the open palms. Cass was frozen in shock, and didn’t even register the warmth and the stickiness of the blood dripping into their hands.

“This is a vow,” her voice echoed from all angles, wrapping around the witch and the Warlock, “from myself to the Lightbearer: I will allow no harm to come to you. I will not allow you to die your final death. I will do everything in my power-- and beyond-- to make sure this will not pass. If I fail in this way, then let my Worm consume me whole, and let the Voices rend me so utterly that they are satisfied with their last and greatest torment.”

On the edges of their hearing, they heard the shadows whisper: a new vow had been made. A new vow had been accepted.

If Cass were to die, Ir Zythàs would truly be consumed.

Ir Zythàs wiped the blade on the edges of her raiment before storing it back in Cass’s belt. She rested her scarred hand above their cupped hands and quickly vanished the blood away before returning the gloves to their hands. “Do you trust me now?” she asked, tightening the last strap on their upper arm.

Cass could only nod, not trusting their voice to work. They stared at their hands, their palms still open.

“We must continue forward,” Ir Zythàs said. Cass nodded again and followed the witch to the doors of Eleusinia. They swung open as they approached. The broken Watchtower sat on the horizon; its summit illuminated in a way no other area of the Watchtower-- and indeed all of Eleusinia-- was illuminated.

“Do you remember the plan?” asked Ir Zythàs.

Cass rubbed a thumb across their palms. “Yes. I’ll open the locks of the Labyrinth and guide you to Dûl Incaru. She will be found at the top of the Tower. You have to convince her to leave the Dreaming City, with or without you.”

“It will be with me, I assure you. We cannot allow her to return to the Witch-Queen’s clutches.”

The Warlock nodded. “Very well. But if she denies you, or if she becomes hostile, then she’s mine. I kill her, and we come up with a new plan.”

The witch nodded. “Very well.”

“Then shall we get started?” The two were now standing at the last broken piece of the bridge, just before the entrance into the Labyrinth.

“To end the curse,” vowed Cassiopeia.

“To deny the Queen,” vowed Ir Zythàs.

To end Her reign once and for all.


End file.
